


Assassination Closet

by alternatedoom



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Anal Sex, Closet Sex, Don't Copy To Another Site If Your Site Has Ads And Is Trying To Make Money Off Fanfic, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Sexual Dysfunction, Silly, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26408146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternatedoom/pseuds/alternatedoom
Summary: Zuko feels his face getting hot. "What you're suggesting is beyond undignified--"
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 437





	Assassination Closet

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Set during the comics some time after _The Search_.  
> 2\. Sokka is 18, Zuko is 19.  
> 3\. I honestly do not care what _The Legend of Korra_ comics say: given Sokka's early sexism (he didn't learn that from thin air) and the Air Nomads' dedicated gender segregation, I find it exceedingly difficult to believe that the Water Tribe and Air Nomads were fine and cool with homosexuality.

Zuko's getting winded from sprinting at top speed for so long. He's in excellent shape, but he's not as spectacularly fit as he was when he was living on his ship and training ten hours a day. This dash through the palace is making him regret not setting more time aside to stay in peak physical condition. "There's an assassination closet in the next--"

Sokka chokes and misses a step as they tear around a corner, falling a pace behind Zuko, but he recovers and catches up with his long legs in a mere four additional strides. "A what?"

So apparently even though they're the same height, Sokka can now run faster than him and is holding back from full speed so as not to leave Zuko behind. Annoying, but Zuko can't stay mad at Sokka beyond the irritation of a moment. "There's an assassination closet in the next greatroom but it's only big enough to hold one of us," Zuko says breathlessly as they run. "You get in, I'll keep running. There's another one three rooms down."

"You're the one they want dead. I'll get the next one," Sokka pants.

"You don't know where the next one is!"

"I'm sure I'll find one in the sixth conservatory or something," Sokka gasps as they shoot side by side through the double doors. Zuko takes the extra few seconds to slam the doors closed and throw the bolt. Sokka helps by closing the second door. The deadbolt is small, a short and narrow cylinder of metal, and forcing the doors will be easy enough, but maybe the delay will buy them another twenty or thirty seconds to get Sokka installed in the compartment.

"Sokka!" Zuko snaps. "This is serious!"

"That's why there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight!"

Ignoring him, Zuko darts to the secret door and half-slides, half-skids to a stop, gulping air, jabbing the three ornamental buttons hidden in the mosaic of his great-grandfather. At the time of Zuko's coronation, when Sokka first came to Caldera as a visitor, he wandered lost around the palace a few times, and complained after being rescued that the place is like an anthill. And maybe it is, deliberately so. The royal palace was built and renovated with spaces designed to withstand all manner of revolutions, solar eclipses, invasions, coups, and assassination attempts, to enable its inhabitants to survive all predicaments. Zuko's hopefully bought a precious minute of time by leading Sokka this way, via an indirect route that requires taking the fourth door in a confusion corridor with a row of five doors, then the second door in a subsequent hallway of four.

They still don't have much time, because they have a startling number of pursuers. This number of assassins could easily split up, and check all the doors, fast and efficient, and they'll know from the doors Zuko just locked that they came this way--

Zuko fucks up the short sequence and has to start over again, swearing quietly. Three seconds later the compartment door finally swings open. "Get in," Zuko commands.

"I like how the secret door is set into the skirt, so we're literally crawling under the old guy's robes," Sokka jokes as he ducks down and climbs inside. Only Sokka would kid around when their lives are so sharply on the line. At least Sokka's moving as he says it. Sokka glances around within, at the tight space and higher, irregular ceiling. "We can both fit!" Sokka says as he finishes squeezing in, leaving his calf and foot hanging out. "Come on!"

"Put your foot in so I can shut the door!"

Sokka reaches out to him. "Get in here!"

"Assassination closets are built for one!"

"Just get in," Sokka insists, stretching his arm further out through the compartment door, offering Zuko his hand. 

"I can't fit!" Zuko's on the edge of losing patience. "Pull your damn foot in!"

Zuko grabs roughly at Sokka's foot to shove it inside, but quick as an eagle-eel Sokka seizes Zuko first by the wrist, then by the collar of his formal robes, and Sokka forcibly manhandles him forward. Zuko resists for a few seconds, but he's not about to firebend at Sokka, and Sokka has him off-balance and with nothing to grab for purchase. Zuko ducks his head to avoid hitting it on the low doorframe, and then his chest is in and Sokka is right there, his face close and urgent and right in Zuko's face, his exhalation hitting Zuko's cheek, and his wiry-strong arms are pulling their bodies closer than they've ever had reason to be.

Zuko stops fighting as Sokka pulls Zuko onto his lap, forcing Zuko to straddle him before he lets go of the front of Zuko's dress robes. Sokka's breath smells like oranges, and the scent clings to him like a cologne; he must have eaten one right before he got out of the carriage that brought him to the palace. Zuko noticed it when they embraced in greeting, but not as powerfully as now.

Zuko plants a hand on Sokka's chest to push himself upright, then processes what he's using for leverage and jerks back his hand with cringeworthy haste. Zuko perches across Sokka's lap as lightly as he can, balancing while leaving a few inches of space between their chests, because that's all the space there is to leave. He's temporarily at a loss for words.

"Shut the door!" Sokka hisses, low and frantic.

Zuko recovers his wits fast enough. He told Sokka this space was too small for the both of them, but the decision's been made and they're certainly committed now, so Zuko drags his legs the rest of the way in, then reaches back and grabs the square door and pulls it inward, quietly shutting it. He latches the lock, sealing them inside.

Then the only sound is their paired, panting breaths. The ceiling above them is higher and ventilated above for a bit of light and air circulation, but the walls around them are a cramped trapezoid that narrows as the walls go up. They're forced to sit on the assymetrical floor, because the ceiling isn't tall enough for them to stand side by side, and there's certainly no way they could comfortably sit next to each other.

"That was close," Sokka whispers only seconds later, angling his head to view the greatroom beyond through the tiny spyhole. Zuko can't turn around to look.

"How many are there?" Zuko asks.

"Shhh! Spirits alive, keep your voice down," Sokka whispers.

"Once the door is sealed it's completely soundproof in here," Zuko says. "Are they leaving?"

"They're still kind of moving through-- two left, three still here... two more just came in, they're looking for us, I can see them talking--" Sokka breaks off. 

Zuko shifts on top of Sokka's thighs, trying to get comfortable, which is impossible because he's _sitting on Sokka's lap_. The opening scene of impossible fantasies, or in real life, the stuff of humiliating, friendship-derailing nightmares. "I shouldn't have let you drag me in here." Then he starts to get angry. "Why did you drag me in here?!"

"What on earth made you think I'd let you go on alone?" Sokka asks, giving him a reproachful glance.

Zuko slides an inch this way, an inch that way, trying to find some way to better separate their bodies. He has almost no room to maneuver. Zuko's hand accidentally brushes against Sokka's lap in front of him, and he perceives the cock lying flaccid along Sokka's leg, padded with a few layers of thin fabric between them, but unmistakable. Even soft, Sokka feels _hung_ , and Zuko jerks like he's been scalded. Sokka has no reaction, as though he didn't notice, yet he can't have missed the inadvertent skimming touch. Zuko's answer is a second delayed, but Sokka's busy trying to see out the spyhole again. "Because these chambers are designed to hold one person not all that comfortably? Or because I told you to?"

"I wasn't going to dive into the first escape hatch and leave you," Sokka scolds him. Sokka's clearly learned from the best, because he sounds exactly like Katara when she's working herself up for a good upbraiding.

Zuko knows he sounds cold, and he doesn't care. "You should have."

Sokka makes a face. "So I could sit in here alone and freaking out for who knows how long, worrying about whether you made it to the next hidey-hole? No thanks."

"I'm very capable," Zuko says, and who can blame him if it comes out a bit grumpily.

"I know you are," Sokka says. "But against this many unknown assailants? Not risking you, buddy."

Zuko heaves a sigh. If he could pull up his knees and put his head in his hands, he would. He's so tired, and his back aches. "I get a lot of practice with people trying to kill me."

Sokka looks at him sympathetically. "And so this is called an assassination closet?"

"I mean... I've heard them called other things, boltholes, panic chambers, but in the palace they're specifically assassination closets."

"Terrible name, no offense," Sokka says. "It sounds like where you go when you want to be assassinated."

"I didn't name them," Zuko says, but he considers this point. "The moment you're climbing into the assassination closet is the riskiest moment, I'll give you that."

Sokka shifts under him. "Why wouldn't they make them at least regular closet size?"

Zuko realizes he isn't sure how fresh his breath is, and so he tries to exhale not in Sokka's face but slightly to the side. "You're not meant to stay in them for a long time. You let the assassin follow you in, wait for the assassin to leave, then sneak out."

"They should at least have snack shelves installed," Sokka suggests.

Zuko rolls his eyes. "If we get out of this alive, I'll get someone on that just for you."

"And you're completely, definitely, one hundred percent sure it's soundproofed?"

"Yeah," Zuko says. "As a kid I was taught which are soundproof and which aren't. This one is."

"Some are, and some aren't, just randomly? Why?"

Zuko sneaks a glance at him. "I think in case a woman has a baby with her."

"That's super disturbing to think about," Sokka says. "Almost as disturbing as the fact none have snacks." Their faces are mere inches away, too-intimate, and Sokka has the spyhole to focus on, but Zuko has nowhere else to look but Sokka or the nondescript walls around them. "By the way, where the hell were your guards?"

"Those were some of their corpses we jumped over running." A minimum of three of his personal guards are already dead. Zarvos was burned to death, Idon and Sephon were lying in pools of blood. Zuko recognized their white, drained faces. _Agni cherish their souls._

Sokka seems to sense the mood. "Sorry." Sokka waits a beat, and Zuko says nothing. What can he say? "But like, aren't bodyguards supposed to stick close to you?"

Zuko huffs. "I usually only need them when I'm trying to sleep. I fight my own battles. In two years, this is the first time I've run away and hid from an assassination attempt."

"If there was ever one to run from, this was it," Sokka says succinctly, keeping his eyes fastened over Zuko's shoulder.

Zuko feels strange and kind of agitated to have fled, though he knows Sokka's right, it was certainly the correct call. The both of them knew it the second they strolled laughing into the secondary celebration room and saw all the black-clad figures on the other side of the room. Sokka never finished the story about his latest misadventures on the trip west. They'd taken one look across the room, then one wide-eyed, mutually panicky glance at each other, and they'd turned together and run away at a sprint, and they were chased. Zuko knew instantly he couldn't handle that many assailants, especially with Sokka to protect. How the hell did they all get into the palace, anyway--

"Where are Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors?" Sokka asks. "I thought they were your bodyguards."

"I've asked them to safeguard my mother and Kiyi," Zuko says, and he winces for a second at the thought of what might happen if the assassins give up on finding him and decide to venture into another wing of the palace, but so far all attackers have been lightning-focused on him, and if anyone can handle a full pack of assassins, it'll be the Kyoshi Warriors. Four guard his mother, and four guard Kiyi, and Zuko keeps additional guards on that side of the palace, so the odds will be at least more even. The Kyoshi Warriors have a few benders in the mix now, plus Ty Lee's trained all of them in the art of chi blocking...

Sokka rubs his hands against his pants over the sides of his thighs as though he's wiping off his palms. "So how long do you think we're gonna be stuck in here?"

"You're not claustrophobic, are you?" A pointless question now; Zuko probably should have checked before all but shoving Sokka in here.

Sokka glances back at Zuko's face, then goes back to looking out the spyhole, subtly tilting his head for a better view. "Nah, I'm good. Are you okay? I mean, you're not that, are you?"

Zuko shakes his head. "I'm fine. This place wasn't made for long stays, though."

"Who the hell built it?" 

"The palace is ancient," Zuko answers, fiddling with his sleeve just to keep his fingers busy. "But my great-grandfather had it renovated, and I guess he got really paranoid as he aged. You may have noticed Fire Nation interiors don't tend to be ostentatious, so when you see scalloped trim or a tapestry or stained glass, there's probably a secret passage or an assassination closet hidden there."

"So I should try getting under everybody's skirts, got it."

 _From the sound of it, you already get under all the skirts,_ Zuko thinks but does not say. "Don't spread it around," Zuko says dryly instead. "My life could depend on that particular secret someday."

"You honor me with your trust, and your secrets die with me," Sokka says, a goofy Sokka promise if ever there was one. Sokka sketches the symbol for silence over his heart.

Zuko reconsiders Sokka's original question. How long _are_ they likely to be stuck in here? "Aang and Katara will notice when we're both missing from the banquet," Zuko says. "It starts in half an hour."

"If the newest we-miss-Ozai murder society finds us before that..." Sokka leaves the rest unspoken. Leaning forward, Sokka presses his chin onto Zuko's shoulder to try to get a wider view of the room through the spyhole. Zuko holds as still as the grave. "But if enough of them leave, we could probably take five or six, right? Between the element of surprise, my boomerang and your bending--"

"No guarantee one yell won't bring them all back in here and down on our heads," Zuko says. He and Sokka are lucky they surprised the assassins instead of the other way around, or they might already be dead. "I don't like our odds against twenty elite assassins by ourselves. Not to mention we're not going to have the element of surprise on our side at all coming out of here."

"Pretty sure that was more than twenty. That was like... a small army."

"We should sit tight," Zuko finishes. "Watch for Aang and Katara. Or Suki and the others. If we see anyone who'll even the odds, we leap out and jump in. Agreed?"

"Jump into the fray," Sokka agrees. "Hmm, more black-clad psycho killers just came in." Sokka draws his head back from the spyhole in alarm. "They're really looking around for us now. Lean forward into me."

Barely breathing, Zuko obeys, leaning forward and pressing his chest against Sokka's, and then it's his turn to rest his chin on Sokka's shoulder. Assassination closets are constructed to be undetectable, but if they are found, they're sitting turtleducks, as good as dead no matter how much fire Zuko blasts backwards.

"Two of them are looking right at us, directly at the jewel pattern thingies you poked," Sokka whispers in his ear. "Is it possible to see through the peephole from the other side?"

"I don't know," Zuko whispers back. Even though he knows the tiny chamber is soundproof, the atmosphere of fear Sokka just imposed demands a hushed voice. "I never tried looking."

For several minutes they sit pressed together in a deadly quiet, waiting silence. Zuko's conscious of Sokka's steady breath, of the warmth of his body, of his familiar, pleasantly comforting smell and the other detectable scents clinging to his skin and traditional but light Water Tribe clothing. Zuko doesn't want to die, but he wouldn't mind the scent of Sokka's neck being the last thing he inhales. Sokka smells like the seasoned wood they burn in the Earth Kingdom, and of fresh oranges, not just on his breath but also on his clothes, like he accidentally sent a fine spray over himself as he peeled or ate the orange, plus a layer of sweat from the workout of their race through the palace, all coming together into a blended smell that's wonderfully... Sokka.

Zuko drifts a little, inhaling and exhaling, and then he realizes he's getting aroused.

Zuko's groin is not pressed against Sokka like his upper body is, but his stirring cock is terrifyingly close to the muscles and layer of fat over the lowest part of Sokka's belly. Zuko processes the moment of realization and shifts back uncomfortably before Sokka can notice, or at least he hopes. Zuko straightens, carefully putting three inches of space between himself and Sokka. "Uh," he says without meaning to, under his breath.

"What?"

Zuko shakes his head. "Nothing. Are they gone?"

Sokka leans forward tentatively towards the spyhole, and he relaxes at whatever he sees. Zuko tries to keep distance between their bodies without being too obvious about it. Sokka watches for another minute. Zuko sits in silence, turned on and getting hard against his will. He keeps coming back to: he's tried to stamp out his secret crush on Sokka for years, and now he's sitting straddled on Sokka's lap.

At last Sokka's posture eases. Sokka glances to look at him, too-close. "They're on the other side of the room now. Another few just came back in though." Sokka takes one last look through the spyhole, then refocuses on him as Zuko sits blank-faced, concentrating on trying to make his erection slacken. "Don't tell me, you have to pee," Sokka guesses jokingly. "If only you were trapped in here with Katara," Sokka starts, and Agni help him Sokka's about to make a urinebending joke, and then Sokka glances down and it's all over. Sokka's jaw drops. "Oh my god, you're hard."

Zuko grimaces. "It's just the -- the full-body contact, okay?"

Sokka gives him a weirdly searching look for a split second before he laughs. "Being on my lap makes you hard? That's hilarious."

Zuko scowls at him.

"Hilarious, and hot," Sokka says, and Zuko feels himself coloring, because-- he thinks Zuko getting hard on his lap is hot? Then again it's Sokka, who has a reputation and probably likes the idea that he's turning someone on, anyone, anywhere, anytime. Court gossip has it that Sokka's on friendly terms with many women around the three remaining nations and that the bed in his ambassador's suite here in the palace is rarely left cold during the part of the year that he's in Caldera. Not exactly surprising, given that Sokka's gorgeous, with his tan skin and sea-blue eyes and just the right amount of muscle, plus funny, kind, smart, plus a war hero, Zuko's indifferent to that last thing but women probably love it--

Sokka's eyes flicker up and down over Zuko in a disconcerting, almost lascivious way. "I'm truly flattered. Don't worry, I can probably manage to keep my hands to myself."

Zuko blinks, because Sokka sounds like he's _flirting_.

"My body's messed up," Zuko admits, and it's a half-assed explanation but it's not exactly a lie, either. "I haven't slept in days. Not since the last attempt." Zuko bites his lip, hating to have to admit this stuff. "It was kind of close last time."

"That's ... genuinely not good, buddy," Sokka says, not at all flirtatious now, only concerned and sympathetic. "Okay, I'll apologize to Mai later."

"Mai broke up with me a while back," Zuko says tiredly. "Apologize for what?"

Sokka gapes at him in the dim, indistinct light. "When did that happen? When were you gonna tell me?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe I could win her back, but..." Zuko shakes his head again. "She moved on and I think we're really done."

"Okay, no apologies then, although I'm sorry to hear it." Sokka gathers the hem of Zuko's robes and flips it upwards, rolling the long skirt up. "Shit, wait, that was an apology word, wasn't it? Paradox! ... or is it more like a conundrum...?"

Sokka's experiencing nerves over this situation too, Zuko realizes; Sokka's jokes get extra peculiar and stupid when he's nervous. "What are you doing," Zuko hisses.

"Getting your robes up so you can take care of this," Sokka says in what he probably thinks is a reasonable tone.

"What."

Sokka sounds strangely cheerful as he finishes rolling the skirt of Zuko's robe into a tube and tucks it snugly into the sash against Zuko's stomach. "So you can jerk off, jerkbender. Remember when I used to call you jerkbender? Good times."

Zuko blanches. "I'm not going to touch myself in front of my ambassador from the Southern Water Tribe."

"You're going to touch yourself in front of your old Team Avatar buddy," Sokka corrects. "And your ambassador from the Southern Water Tribe. Almost like a threesome, except they're both me."

Zuko feels his face getting hot. "What you're suggesting is beyond undignified--"

Sokka scoffs dismissively. "Don't act like it's a big deal. I jerk off all the time when there's not a girl in the picture, don't pretend you don't."

"I don't touch myself 'all the time' and however much I might do it, that doesn't make it not a big deal to do it while sitting in your lap," Zuko snaps. "I can live with a little discomfort."

"Spirits, you're still so uptight."

Zuko scowls. "Because I was brought up with half an ounce of modesty?"

"You are so cute when you're embarrassed," Sokka says fondly. "I can't believe I was ever afraid of you."

Zuko turns his head sideways to try and hide the flush of his cheek, presenting his scarred side to Sokka. Only the one side needs concealing via angles, the other is incapable of showing additional blood under the skin.

"Just do it, Zuko," Sokka says patiently. "Come on, I forced you to get in here with me, I don't want to be the asshole standing between you and relief."

"Your logic is backward," Zuko says more loftily than he means to, tipping his head back to meet Sokka's eyes. "You forced me in here, I should get to decide what we do."

This last offhand statement comes out even more wrong, comes out imperious and incorrectly _suggestive_ , and Zuko freezes.

"What do you want to do?" Sokka asks him quietly, a weirdly loaded question, and Sokka's gaze suddenly feels heavy, a physical thing with weight when it rests on Zuko. They are sitting way too close for eye contact to be anything but intimate, so Zuko looks sideways again.

"Nothing," Zuko says, and the word comes out in a stutter.

Zuko glances at him again and instantly knows it's a mistake, because the situation now feels out of his control. Sokka's taking him apart with nothing more than his playful, nervous encouragement and his steadily piercing blue eyes. But Sokka seems like he's going to be generous and lighthearted about this, maybe a little minimal teasing, and it _has_ been a while. Zuko's a mess of mixed feelings. Being Fire Lord has hardened him, and he'd claim he's immune to peer pressure, but perhaps, even after all this time, he's more susceptible when the cajoling comes from Aang, Katara, Sokka, Suki or Toph. Besides, Sokka's already taken the initiative in rolling his ceremonial robe up. Avoiding Sokka's eyes--oh Agni, what if he accidentally makes eye contact with Sokka while he's touching himself?-- Zuko slowly unlaces the front of his leggings.

Sokka's looking at him warmly. "Want me to close my eyes? I'd rather watch, but if it makes you more comfortable--"

_He'd rather watch?_

Unbelievably lecherous. Zuko can't hold Sokka's gaze. He wasn't going to look at Sokka in the first place, and his mind whirls and he has no idea how to answer, or even if he should answer. Looking down to spare himself some embarrassment, Zuko withdraws his cock and slides his hand around himself. That's when he feels the firm stirring under his butt. Zuko's so startled, his head snaps up before he can stop himself or think twice. "Are you getting hard too?!" Zuko says accusingly.

Sokka avoids his eyes now. "Blame it on your stupid Fire Nation pheromones--"

"My _what_?"

"--and you got hard on me and keep wiggling around on my lap, what do you expect!?"

"I'm not wiggling, and this was your idea!" Zuko says vehemently.

"I do have a lot of good ideas, don't I," Sokka muses aloud. Sokka draws a deep, bracing breath, like he's gearing himself up for something, and he looks Zuko in the face. "Okay, here's another one-- let's go one step beyond. I'll jerk you off."

Zuko's stomach flip-flops, because Sokka's talking about putting hands on him. Zuko stares at Sokka, his hand frozen on his cock, feeling unable to move. Sokka spits twice in his palm and brushes Zuko's fingers away, then smears the saliva over the head of Zuko's cock. Zuko digs his fingers into Sokka's thighs and can't help the whimper that darts out of his mouth.

Sokka spits in his hand again and rubs that on Zuko's shaft. Then Sokka begins to stroke him really, really well. Sokka plays with Zuko's foreskin, spitting in his hand several more times and applying the wetness with care and skill and a lot of apparent practice, and the unfamiliar touch feels dizzyingly good. Months have passed since anyone else has touched him. Sokka adds even more spit so that his hand ends up really slippery, and he handles Zuko's cock with perfect, regular, taut, satisfyingly predictable strokes that beg Zuko to push in to them.

Zuko leans forward on his knees so he can thrust a little, taking his body weight off his butt and letting himself push up into Sokka's hand. Sokka adjusts his grip and lets Zuko fuck his closed fist, and Sokka glances up and down between Zuko's face and Zuko's cock with his blue eyes bright, even in the dim light, and some kind of _look_ on his face. Sokka looks... almost awed. As arousing as the stimulation feels, though, Zuko can tell quickly he's not going to be able to climax from it. Too many nerves sparking in his stomach, the pressure of someone fully focusing on him, feeling too much on display like this, no reciprocity to it--

Zuko fucks Sokka's pumping hand until his abused knees feel more sore than they already do from being crammed against the closet wall, and then he sits back on Sokka's thighs. When he settles his butt back down Zuko discovers that Sokka is _hard_ now, all the way hard, long and firm and pressing up under him through Sokka's pants. Zuko's beyond trying to understand why. Even knowing he won't be able to come, Zuko lets Sokka jack him for several more minutes, because the stroking is tantalizing and because it's _Sokka_ and this is not something Zuko ever thought he could have. But it's not fair to make Sokka fondle him endlessly with the intent of getting him off when he knows he's not going to be able to finish.

"I can't," Zuko says, tired and frustrated, and he lays his hand overtop Sokka's around his cock, slowing the movement until Sokka tapers off and ceases. Zuko bites his lip, because he hates to conclude this wild little whatever-this-is. "You should stop, I can't."

"Wait, really?" Sokka seems bewildered, which is fair, because Zuko probably did seem pretty into it, because he was.

Zuko lifts his hand off Sokka's, letting him pull away if he wants to. Sokka leaves his hand around Zuko's cock, giving him little brushing touches and small squeezes, as though he's just as reluctant to stop as Zuko feels. Sokka's cock twitches underneath Zuko's butt.

Zuko tells the truth, though it shames him and he confesses more than he intends to towards the end. "It's not you. Sometimes I can't finish, okay? I'm under a lot of stress, I can't sleep because assassins keep trying to kill me, and I need more than this."

"Okay, okay," Sokka soothes him, but Zuko's last words seem to absorb the whole of his attention. "More than this meaning...?"

Zuko feels his cheek go scarlet again. "You know."

"No, I don't," Sokka says. Zuko's under-robe leggings are thin, and Sokka's hands slide over his lightly-clad thighs, heading back towards his groin but stopping just short. Zuko can't stop his hips from flexing forwards towards the source of touch. "Please enlighten me."

"I have trouble letting go. Of control." Zuko shifts uncomfortably. He wants Sokka to touch him again but isn't so far gone he's willing to ask for it. Zuko's cock aches and his balls feel full and thwarted. "I can't get out of my own head. Mai does things-- did things--"

Sokka's eyes gleam in the hazy amorphous illumination from above and the tiny pinprick of bright shine from the spyhole. "What kinds of things?"

Zuko shakes his head.

Sokka presses him. "Dirty talk? Knifeplay? Toesucking? Toesucking's going to be tough from this angle but if that's what you like--"

Zuko hides his hot face in his hands, because sure he could try to dodge these questions, but Sokka is relentless and there's absolutely nowhere to go. "When I couldn't come, Mai used to peg me, okay?"

Zuko both hears and feels Sokka's swift indrawn breath. "In the ass?"

"Yes in the ass! Do you not know what pegging is?"

"Well, that's a delicious mental picture," Sokka says, and for once he doesn't sound the least bit sarcastic or like he's being funny. "Like, I-could-eat-that-instead-of-dinner delicious. Zuko, close your eyes, pretend I'm Mai and ride my dick."

"I'm not going to disrespect Mai by pretending you're her when you're... well, clearly not her." Zuko eyes Sokka's broad chest, the mostly-visible biceps under his blue short-capped sleeves, and glances very quickly at his face.

Sokka frowns like he's back in great detective Sokka investigation mode and has suddenly formed a suspicion. "Zuko, are you bisexual?!"

"Well... yes," Zuko admits, and his face feels so hot it's a wonder his hair's not going up in flames. "Did you not know? Katara and Mai say-- well, said... I'm obvious."

Sokka's flabbergasted and reduced correspondingly to Sokka-babble. "I thought you were straight as a Yuyan arrow. Do you not find me attractive? I have it on good authority I'm a very handsome man. I mean, what I'm seeing and feeling here would suggest you find me attractive--"

Zuko cuts him off. "Since when do _you_ like men?"

"I don't make a point of talking about it, it's kind of on a need-to-know basis. Water Tribe," Sokka says with a little shrug, as though that explains everything, and Zuko supposes it does. Though Sokka can barely budge, he has a wild-eyed look that says he'd be flailing around if he weren't burdened with a body weighing down his lap. "But I would have never have shut up about it if I had _any_ idea about you. Okay, so no need to pretend anything. We both dig guys, you like it in the ass, we're both hard and trapped together in this stupidly small space you so optimistically refer to as a 'closet'... why in the world are you not already riding my dick?"

Zuko bites his lip. His heart has started to hammer in his chest. "What if they find us while you're...?"

Zuko's not even sure whether he means the assassins, or Aang and Katara or Zuko's own guards.

"Balls deep inside you?" Sokka says it while looking at Zuko sort of intently, like he's extremely taken by this idea, and Zuko can sense the unfurling swell of change from the chi in Sokka's body, Sokka's heartbeat and respiration further speeding up. "Look, I can't promise that won't happen," Sokka says reasonably. "But I can promise you I'll make it worth the risk."

Zuko hesitates, his own heart still racing. Sokka grinds up into him once with that rock-hard cock in a deliberate upthrusting movement, and Zuko's stomach feels light and quivery from Sokka's unabashed desire.

"I'm dying here," Sokka groans. "Don't you want to get off?"

"I--"

"I will get you off," Sokka hums, determined and _excited_ , Zuko can't remember when he last heard Sokka sound so thrilled about anything that wasn't edible. Sokka's hips shift under his, pushing up again, and Sokka's breath hitches. "I will get you out of your head and into your body and it's going to be so good--"

Sokka's words feel like warm velvet on his neck and enter his ears like sweet music. Sokka's a smooth talker when he's not panicking, and a creative thinker, these qualities make him a good ambassador and negotiator, and this is obviously going to -- be a thing. A tryst. A gay tryst, Zuko's first, taking place in a tiny assassination closet while a team of hired killers are prowling right outside hunting them. On the other hand, if they haven't been found already, they should be fairly safe in here--

Heart pounding in his ears, Zuko tries to unfasten Sokka's pants as his answer, but to his shame his hands-- so assured in firebending, so precise wielding his dao-- have a tremor running through them. He's so sleep-deprived. "How do you even open these things?" Zuko mutters, embarrassed.

"Let me," Sokka says, and Sokka has better access to everything, his own pants, Zuko's robes, the spyhole, and his hands are strong and sure on top of that. It's frustrating. Sokka easily and quickly accomplishes the extraction of his cock from his foolishly complicated Water Tribe pants with their foreign knots. Plus multiple drawstrings, what is the point?!

Zuko takes one glance down and starts shaking his head. "Agni, shit, no."

Sokka spits carefully into his hand and smears his palm against the head of his cock. "What?"

Somehow the sensory impression of how big Sokka felt under his ass didn't translate in Zuko's mind. Sokka's cock is terrifying-- fat and over seven inches long at least. "You're too big," Zuko protests. "I won't be able to climb out of this cupboard afterward, let alone walk."

"It'll fit," Sokka says. "I'll be really gentle. Trust me, okay?"

"You're a lot bigger than Mai's strap-on," Zuko says doubtfully.

"But that was a strap-on and this is my dick."

Zuko stares down at Sokka's cock, still dubious, but also enticed. Mai's strap-on was double-ended with the phalluses sitting at a right angle, so when she pegged him the sex was satisfying for them both. Zuko hopes and expects sex with a man will allow that same sense of shared pleasure, because he needs that mutuality to relax. To come, he needs either overwhelming stimulation or to not feel watched, perhaps a byproduct of a childhood and adolescence in which he was perpetually observed, judged, and found wanting. Or perhaps it's an aftereffect of having his face so intensely uglified. Either way, he can't figure how penetration with a large cock might be achieved more easily than penetration with a more modestly sized bronze replica of the real thing. He can't think the matter over too closely either, because his brain is now stuck on the entrancing idea of taking Sokka's dusky uncut cock inside himself.

Zuko looks up at Sokka skeptically, wanting an explanation. "What's the difference?"

"Zuko," Sokka says in a strangled voice. "Will this be your first time with a guy? Have you never had an actual flesh-and-blood dick in your ass before?"

All the political eloquence Zuko has learned suddenly deserts him. "Shut up!"

Sokka laughs in what might be sheer delight. Zuko knows, at least, from the manic audible joy it contains that Sokka's not laughing at him.

"It's hard for me to date, okay," Zuko says defensively. "I'm in a position of power, half my face is a scar, and all I have time to do is go to meetings and try to avoid getting murdered in my bed, and you know sodomy was illegal in the Fire Nation until only two years ago, right?"

"Zuko," Sokka interrupts towards the end of this short tirade. "You are so hot. Seriously. Flameo. Let's fix this right now. Stand up and let me take your pants off."

Zuko could argue further, or he could let Sokka peel his leggings and shorts off and try to slide that huge cock up into him. Zuko's limbs feel heavy and hot, his heart is beating fast, and his cock is so hard it aches. He's still internally reeling from the revelation that Sokka's into other men and Sokka _wants_ him. Sokka might not want anything from him beyond right here, right now, but that's miles more than Zuko ever thought he could possibly have. Mai is gone, but his second lover could be _Sokka_. There's an obvious decision here, and it's not difficult to reach, even if the circumstances are questionable at best. Zuko wants what Sokka's offering.

"That's Aang's ridiculous made-up word," Zuko growls, but he struggles with difficulty to his feet, pressing down on Sokka's shoulders for leverage.

"Yet perfectly suited to the situation, I feel sure he'd approve my use of it." Sokka sounds giddy. "Also, it's not made up, it's an authentic, historical slang term, a verbal artifact... supposedly. If you believe."

Stretching his legs into this different position both aches and feels good, even though Zuko can't stand up straight, because while the bolthole is taller than it is wide, the ceiling is irregular and even the highest point of the ceiling is about a head too short for him to stand comfortably at his full height.

Sokka pulls both Zuko's leggings and shorts down, carefully drawing the bunched-up fabric over Zuko's boot on the right side, leaving both garments hanging off his left ankle. Sokka taps the inside of Zuko's knee. "Bend your knees more."

When Zuko widens the spread of his legs to the extent the floor allows, Sokka raises himself a little, cranes his neck, and tugs Zuko's thighs down a bit farther so Sokka can angle Zuko's cock down to meet his mouth.

"This is so awkward," Zuko whispers, but then he hisses in pleasure as Sokka engulfs the head of his cock and _sucks_. Sokka strokes Zuko's shaft a few times before letting his hand drift farther back between Zuko's asscheeks. Sokka presses briefly on his perineum and starts fingering him exceptionally gently, running a wet fingertip around Zuko's asshole and frigging against the outside before probing ever so slightly deeper. Sokka's fingers are soft and rhythmic, barely seeking penetration at all. Then Sokka ducks his whole head between Zuko's thighs. Sokka pulls Zuko's pelvis down until his asscheeks hit the sides of Sokka's face, and then Sokka reaches up with his tongue.

Zuko can't help but respond aloud. "Ah--!"

Sokka licks around his asshole, lightly and teasingly at first.

"How can you want to put your mouth there--" Zuko starts, and then he can't finish because he's moaning. Sokka teases the rim of his body and laps at him before delving inside.

Zuko has strong knees and thighs and years of experience holding wide-stance firebending positions for long periods, but the floor space isn't large enough to spread his legs as widely as he would in a kata, and his neck is going to get a horrible crick if he keeps stooping with his head at this awful bent angle. What Sokka's doing with his obscene tongue, though, feels so erotic Zuko stays in position, just feeling the wet fluttering of Sokka's tongue inside and around his asshole. Zuko would stay like that for as long as Sokka was willing to keep going, except his legs begin to feel weak from maintaining the stress position.

"I need to sit," he tells Sokka, and Sokka pulls back and pats his lap in answer. Zuko straddles him again, thrusting their cocks together because, well, they're already almost pressed together. His cock bounces off Sokka's and Zuko grips both their cocks together in his two hands, rubbing them.

Sokka transfers a lot of saliva to his fingers before he slides his hand farther back under Zuko's bunched-up robes, and Zuko rises to his knees to let Sokka reach under him. Sokka explores his asshole lavishly with a finger, slowly penetrating Zuko as though they have the luxury of a bed and space to move, proper lubrication and all the time in the world.

"You look so hot like this," Sokka whispers, and Zuko swallows his words down like hot spiced wine. Zuko would have said he's past blushing, but his cheek feels hot again and he lets himself bask in the compliment as Sokka continues stretching his asshole. "If I knew you like it in the ass I would've wanted to do this since like-- well, before the comet."

Zuko doesn't know what to say to that. "What about Suki?"

Sokka pauses, adding another finger, and answers unusually thoughtfully. "I'll always love Suki, but she and I weren't right for each other. That said, now I wonder if she'd be interested in a threesome."

"I would not be," Zuko says stiffly, more from the topic than the sensation, or maybe from both. Sokka's fingers in him are tender and slow-moving, but Zuko's still feeling the stretch. "That would make the Fire Lord-bodyguard relationship extremely awkward."

"I'm glad our Fire Lord-Ambassador relationship is unassailable," Sokka says, and the dippy enthusiasm with which he says it makes Zuko think that if Sokka wasn't working with both hands towards a goal here, Zuko'd be getting prompted for a fistbump. Sokka's well and truly distracted, though, by fingerfucking Zuko while adding more saliva to the shaft of his cock. Then Sokka pulls his fingers out of Zuko's ass.

Sokka hastily unties his white sash and parts his cerulean tunic to match his opened pants, and then his clothes are all spread and unlaced from his groin up, because Water Tribe clothes just do that, apparently. Sokka's cock glistens with transferred wetness, his eyes are keen, and somehow he manages to look like he's lounging even though they're crammed in a space way too small for them. Sokka looks licentious, like a seducer, and the expression on his face is awash with want.

"Suck my fingers, then spit in my palm," he tells Zuko.

"You just had those in my ass," Zuko whispers, appalled. "That's filthy."

Sokka sucks his fingers back into his own mouth, then offers them to Zuko again. "It's not a big deal, Fire Lord."

Zuko can't imagine a more inappropriate time for the use of his formal title. "Agni, _fine_ ," Zuko says, and he acquiesces to this debauchery because he doesn't know what else to do. Sokka's fingers don't taste bad. Maybe a little weird. Maybe Zuko wouldn't even have known they'd been in his ass if they hadn't just... been in his ass.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," Sokka promises.

Zuko's about to say something peevish, like 'Then stop saying that and do it' but Sokka returns his fingers to Zuko's ass, and this time Sokka pushes in three. Zuko gasps instead of speaking. The increase catches him off-guard, since Sokka only had him suck two digits. Sokka doesn't fingerfuck him for as long this time, soon pulling his fingers out and transferring yet more saliva to his cock. Making eye contact, Sokka uses his hands to guide Zuko's hips into position.

Sokka begins to push his straining cock up while gently pulling Zuko down. Zuko exerts pressure out to let Sokka in, and slowly, slowly he slides down Sokka's cock as their bodies join. Sokka was right-- the feeling of a flesh-and-blood cock inside him is a world away from the inanimate feeling of Mai's strap-on. Sokka's cock feels alive in him, eager and pulsing and twitching with need, and Sokka's hips and thighs flex under him, seeking more and clearly restraining the desire to start fucking up into him. The stretch is considerably more painful, but Zuko's okay with a short period of torment to have Sokka inside him and telling him how beautiful he is, how good, how hot. Sokka gives out sweet words like candy at a Fire festival.

"You're so amazing," Sokka murmurs. "Spirits alive, you're so hot. You look amazing, you feel perfect, you're so tight."

Sokka nudges upward a little more with his cock, leaning forward to kiss Zuko and pulling him close. Sokka's a good kisser, delicate and sensual. When Sokka slips a hand between their bodies, he slowly resumes stroking Zuko's cock.

Sokka's far more disrobed than Zuko is on top, so Zuko takes advantage of the opportunity to touch. Zuko slides both hands over Sokka's light brown chest, fiddling first with his nipples and then with the carcanet around Sokka's neck. The carved flat stones are warm with Sokka's body heat and smooth to the touch, but Sokka's neck under his fingers feels smoother still.

Sokka's mouth keeps running almost the whole time, mostly babbled praise with some random comments thrown in for good measure. Zuko wouldn't have guessed he'd be such a talker, but it is predictably Sokka-like. "I want you so much," Sokka says, squeezing Zuko's cock with one hand and a handful of Zuko's ass with the other. "Assuming we get out of this alive, I'm going to yell at Katara for not telling me you like cock."

Zuko tenses when Sokka slips in a little farther and it hurts, suddenly, hurts badly, setting his muscles off. Zuko squeezes Sokka's shoulders, digging his fingernails in painfully. "Stop," he hisses.

Sokka immobilizes himself immediately, allowing time for the internal pressure to ease to a manageable level. "You okay?" Sokka asks, kissing Zuko's neck.

"I need a minute," Zuko says, and the last word comes out on a moan. "You're really -- really big."

"I'll wait as long as you need," Sokka vows, his voice soft and melodic. "You have no idea how badly I want this, but--" Sokka twitches inside Zuko. "--oh spirits, I'm gonna take good care of you. You look so amazing, just, just shafted on my dick. You feel so hot, you're so beautiful, you have no idea--"

Zuko regains his equilibrium as the pain recedes. He pushes himself down a little more and undulates his hips once, and then he's all the way down, Sokka's cock seated all the way in. Zuko takes a few long breaths and waits a little longer, just to be sure. "I think... I'm ready," Zuko says at last.

"Yeah, spirits, oh yeah--" And then Sokka's thrusting up into Zuko's ass like he's wanted this all his life.

Sokka's hand on Zuko's cock moves faster, and Sokka's cock fills him, stretching and packing him unbelievably full while Sokka's hand gives him the friction he needs to get there. Zuko's close to coming before he knows it and then he's sailing over the edge, Sokka's hand tight around him, Sokka's cock inside him like nothing Zuko's ever felt. In the space of seconds, the pressure in his groin explodes and resolves into bliss. Ecstasy takes Zuko away, and he lets it while he lets Sokka have him.

Zuko comes down from the high all too soon, his body going limp. He knows he's not being a great sex partner right now and Sokka deserves better, but none of this was Zuko's idea and he's just so, so tired.

Yet Sokka doesn't seem to mind his fatigue. Sokka's strong arms wind around him, holding him tight as Sokka continues to fuck him hard, plundering Zuko for everything he is, everything he has left. With both hands free, Sokka can move Zuko's body, and he uses the angles of their hips to do most of the work of shifting Zuko up and down. Sokka ruts up into him fast and hard.

"Zuko," Sokka groans when he finishes inside, wrapping his arms around Zuko's back and dragging Zuko's hips down one last time. Sokka squeezes Zuko's body a little like he's precious and loved and a little like he's a doll. Zuko has no objections. He feels like a doll, in fact, slack and floppy and sort of floaty. When Sokka slouches back against the wall, he pulls Zuko forward along with him.

"That was amazing," Sokka says breathlessly. Zuko can only nod into his shoulder.

"We'll just wipe ourselves off with the underside of your robes, not like there's a shortage of fabric," Sokka says. "But no rush, this is nice," Sokka adds, petting a hand over the back of Zuko's head, and so Zuko doesn't immediately force himself to move. Instead of nudging Zuko back to clean up between them, Sokka lets him relax with his head pressed forward on Sokka's shoulder. 

Zuko lets himself close his eyes for just a moment.

*

"Zuko," someone says-- Sokka says.

"What," he says, waking up slower than he should. He realizes the lower half of his face is pressed against soft wet cloth, and his second realization is that his mouth was open and he's drooled, in his sleep, all over Sokka's shoulder.

"Did you-- oh Agni," Zuko whispers, voice raspy from sleep. He clears his throat, notices his own rancid, distasteful breath, and grimaces as he pulls away, turning his head so as not to breathe in Sokka's face. "How long was I out?"

"Eh, an hour, maybe two," Sokka says. "Hard to tell in here."

"Fuck, I'm so stiff," Zuko says, rolling his shoulders, stretching his arms, and tightening his knees to the extent he can while on top of Sokka. "Your muscles must be so cramped."

"I think you needed the rest," Sokka says kindly, much more empathetic and less cranky than Zuko would probably be in his place, but Sokka takes the opportunity to shift his limbs around too, and he winces as he moves. Sokka's cock is still out and half under him, and they're oppressively sticky against each other-- Agni, Zuko has no memory of Sokka pulling out, which means he fell asleep with Sokka's cock still inside him. Sokka must have let his cock subside on its own and slip out without any touching, without getting the chance to wipe himself off. Sokka must have been patiently, uncomfortably sitting with their cooling fluids against his skin, with his legs probably growing numb from Zuko's slumped weight _for an hour_ just to let Zuko sleep.

Zuko can't think what to say. Should he express gratitude? Apologize? 

"Thanks, Sokka," he says.

"Course." Sokka tucks himself away and starts fastening his pants. "Aang and Katara are out there, and Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors just ran through."

"Oh no," Zuko says, and he tries to kneel upright and his muscles protest strenuously. His knees ache like his kneecaps have just been beaten for an hour. "Are they fighting the assassins?"

"I think they have them taken care of," Sokka says.

"Oh Agni, they're going to know we--"

"Shh, it's okay, we're just gonna tell them we hid and you fell asleep on me," Sokka says calmly, closing his wrap shirt and retying his sash. "Let me do the talking, okay?"

"Yeah... okay. That won't be suspicious."

"Let me just--" Sokka says, and with one hand he stabilizes Zuko's left boot and with his other hand he pulls Zuko's leggings and undershorts completely off Zuko's body.

"What are you doing!?"

"Hiding the evidence so you don't trip over it," Sokka says, and he stuffs both items of Zuko's underclothes down into his own shorts. The leggings compress quite small, but the clothes still make a bulge in Sokka's pants. If Zuko had a little more presence of mind he'd make some joke about cock size. Sokka carefully rolls Zuko's robe back down, hiding his bare thighs and his naked pelvis. Zuko's never gone through the palace commando in his life, and he flushes at the thought.

Sokka smiles at him. "You realize, of course, that if we end up dating, which by the way I would definitely go for, I am going to tell this as a hilarious story."

Zuko looks at him wide-eyed, and he opens his mouth with no idea what's going to come out of it. "Yes, we're dating, and no, this is embarrassing and you cannot tell anyone. Also, I'm visiting my father and my sister regularly and there are secrets I keep and I don't want you to hassle me about it."

Sokka blinks at this minor torrent of information. "Why would you visiting your dad and Azula-- you know what, nevermind. Listen, dating me is a wacky series of embarrassments and compromising situations, you'll have to get used to it, but I'll let you ease in slowly. How about this, we'll only tell the gang, and not right now, but at some point in the future."

Zuko glares, but he'll take it. "Fine. And no threesomes either! I don't share."

"For you, I will happily give up threesomes, okay?"

Zuko gives his most benevolent nod, the Fire Lord granting a boon. "Okay."

"Great," Sokka says. "Now that we've addressed absolutely everything we needed to settle, will you please open the spirits-damned door? Every single muscle in my legs is screaming."

Their clothes are more or less in order, and Zuko too is desperate at this point to be out of this miserably tiny box, may Agni punish whoever designed it so cramped. The company is fine, but the square footage simply will not do. Then again, the compartment probably did save his life, maybe both their lives, the assassins certainly weren't taking prisoners. Zuko turns sideways and fumbles with the door latch, managing to unlock it and swing the door open. He tries to step out and stand up, but his leg fails him, and his palms hit the floor, and he ends up half crawling and half falling out on his knees. Luckily his robe, which flows down to his ankles when he's standing upright, doesn't rise up past his knee-high boots as he sprawls almost facefirst onto the floor.

Aang and Katara are on their way out of the room, but Aang hears the scuffle of the door opening and Zuko's slide out. "Zuko!" Aang yells, and dashes over to help him.

Katara spins around. "What the-- Zuko! Zuko, do you know where Sokka is?!"

Aang pulls Zuko's arm about his shoulders, then slips his arm around Zuko, helping him up and taking a good portion of his weight. Zuko's mind was blown yesterday at the sight of Aang, who's had a growth spurt in just the few months since Zuko last saw him. Aang's at least two inches taller, and his shoulders feel wide and strong under Zuko's arm.

"Ughhh you have no idea how good, and also horrible it feels to stretch," Sokka gasps as he emerges from the bolthole on his knees, then gets up staggering and leaning against the mosaic. "This is the worst case of pins and needles I've ever had in my life. I think my legs might fall off."

"Sokka!" Katara shouts, and then it's her turn to rush forward, grabbing Sokka in a hug that nearly bowls him over and luckily only pins him to the wall. Sokka seems as unsteady as Zuko feels, but he manages to keep his feet. "We were so worried about you two! We couldn't find you and one of Zuko's guards said a whole pack of assassins broke into the palace, and--"

"We're fine, we noticed," Sokka says calmly, still dangerously wobbling. "We actually surprised them, cause we're just that slick. Then we hid like cowards, or, y'know, like people who enjoy living. Did you guys--?"

"Aang took care of them in the Avatar state," Katara says. "They've all been arrested and taken to prison." Katara glances at Zuko. "You can interrogate them at your leisure."

"That's going to be later," Zuko says tiredly.

"Zuko, can you stand?" Aang asks, and his voice is worried.

"Yeah, I'm just really stiff. We were in there for a while," Zuko says, forcing his numb legs to stay beneath him by sheer willpower. Aang evidently doesn't trust that Zuko's legs can support him, though, and he continues propping Zuko up. Zuko's not about to say so, but he's grateful for the aid. Zuko doesn't trust himself not to collapse, either.

"You're-- wet," Katara says to Sokka, still worried, swiping at her cheek where she rested it against Sokka's shoulder when they hugged. Katara touches his tunic, then looks at her hand. "Are you-- did one of you get hurt, or--?"

Zuko looks Sokka up and down, wondering how Sokka avoided getting Zuko's come all over his clothes. Sure Sokka opened his tunic and his pants, but both stayed on--

"Nah, while we were hiding in there Zuko fell asleep on me," Sokka says like he's having a laugh at Zuko's expense, and he rubs at the wet spot on the shoulder of his tunic. "He drools! So I figured I'd let him sleep until you guys showed up. Took you long enough, by the way."

"Sorry," Aang says, and he has the decency to look abashed. "Katara and I were late to the banquet, and then you guys weren't there but we thought maybe you'd already come and gone until--"

"When have you ever known me to leave a feast early?" Sokka asks with mock indignation, but then he shrugs. "It's fine Aang, don't feel bad. Zuko needed the nap."

"I haven't been sleeping," Zuko rasps, and Katara smooths a cool and sympathetic hand over his brow.

Sokka bends at the waist, stretching his sore legs. Katara refocuses on her brother, pulling water from her flask and sweeping Sokka's thighs with twin pools. Sokka leans against the wall. "Oh yeah, right there," Sokka tells her.

Sokka goes into 'the plan guy' mode. "So. I think we should take Zuko back to his rooms and he should eat something with Aang while Katara, you and I make sure the place is entirely safe and locked down." Sokka looks back at Zuko. "And then four-sixths of Team Avatar will keep an eye on you while you get some real shut-eye," Sokka says. "Unless you feel really committed to attending the banquet in honor of the Avatar's visit two hours late?"

"No, that sounds... that sounds good," Zuko says. "If you guys... don't mind."

"Of course we don't mind!" Aang says cheerfully.

"Maybe you could have one of your many servants bring some extra food from the feast up to your suite so your favorite assassination closet friend doesn't go hungry," Sokka suggests. Katara returns her water to her hip flask.

Zuko gives him a faint smile. "Yeah, I could do that."

Katara bends double and pokes her head into the secret compartment. Even with the door wide open, her voice comes out muffled, and then she pulls her head out quickly. "How did you both even fit in here? You must have been like pickled fish in a barrel!"

"You'd be surprised how okay being squished is when the alternative is being gutted by a pack of assassins," Sokka says, and the conversation moves on with no more said about it.

Zuko appreciates Sokka for handling it, and he's grateful his new boyfriend is a smooth talker... until a week and a half later when they're saying their farewells to Aang and Katara, and Sokka slings an arm around Zuko's shoulders.

"By the way, Zuko and I are together now," Sokka says, which would be okay on its own, Aang and Katara should know, after all. But then Sokka continues. "Remember how we got trapped in that tiny compartment the day all those assassins showed up?"

"Sokka!" he shouts. "This is not far enough in the future!"

"Well, Zuko and I fucked in there before he fell asleep. I would totally tell it as a long and funny story, but my sweetheart here's embarrassed." Sokka snakes an arm around his waist and Zuko momentarily considers shoving him away, but in the end Zuko only rolls his eyes skyward. "And that's how we got together," Sokka finishes.

"We figured it out," Katara says bluntly. "You both reeked of sex, and when I peeked in there it nearly knocked me flat."

Zuko briefly buries his face in his hands. "Oh Agni."

Aang's grinning. "And after that you were kind of looking at each other differently, and sitting closer together, and --"

Zuko hisses out his displeasure. "I told him assassination closets are built for one!"

"We're very happy," Sokka says, pulling Zuko in closer.

"Happy," Zuko echoes grumpily, but after Aang and Katara have flown away on Appa, and Sokka wraps both arms around him and pulls him in for a kiss, Zuko really is.


End file.
